Ice Castle
by Genki Chibi Juno
Summary: Kogure is the co-owner of an ice rink in Kansas City. One day an ice skater skates into his life. ^^
1. Chapter 1: When they first meet.

**Ice Castle**  
  
  
  
"Which do you like best?"  
Kiminobu Kogure whirled around to find a handsome man standing beside him. He held two colorful containers in his hands and wore a friendly smile. "Spray? Or bottle?"  
"Oh, no contest," he quipped with an equally friendly smile, adjusting his glasses. "Spray. That's what I use. I hate those bottles!"  
"Hey, thanks for the advice," he replied pleasantly as he placed one of the containers back onto its shelf. "I've never tried the spray stuff, but it sure looks like it might be easier to handle than the bottle of saline I've been using."  
He normally didn't pursue a conversation with a stranger, but he seemed like a nice enough guy and his comment intrigued him. He gave him a quizzical look. "What do you do for a living?"  
"Skater," he replied casually, as his eyes scanned the fine print on the spray can.  
"Skater? What kind of skater?"  
"Ice skater. I'm in Kansas City with Ice Fantasy at the Kemper Arena. Our last performance is tonight."  
Kogure turned to face him directly. "Really?" he asked in surprise, tipping the glasses off by a little. "I have tickets for tonight's performance. What numbers will you be doing? I'll watch for you." he offered while fixing his glasses.  
He took a quick glance at his watch and dropped the spray can into the cart. "Wow! Didn't know it was getting so late. I gotta git. Thanks for the help." With a quick nod and a gorgeous toothy grin that highlighted his dimples, he took off down the aisle toward the row of checkout stands lining the front of the big discount store.  
Kogure quickly lifted a hand and called out to him. "Wait! You didn't say which parts you'll be skating in the ice show!"  
He stopped long enough to turn his head and call back over his shoulder as he moved with haste toward the cash register and the waiting clerk. "Prince Charming! I'll be the guy in white tights!"  
  
At Kemper Arena, Kogure tightened his arms about his niece's slim shoulders as she wriggled, he adjusted his glasses as he held the squirming girl.   
"Careful, Haruko. You might fall down at your rate."  
Four-year-old Haruko lifted her shining face and smiled at her uncle. "Prince Charming's is going to appear, right?"  
"That's right!"  
"That's dumb!" Eight-year-old Hanamichi clamped his hands over his little sister's eyes and grinned at his uncle, who instantly pulled his hands away from the little girl's face.  
"Hanamichi, stop! I wanna see the prince!" Haruko buried her face in her uncle's neck. "Uncle, make him stop!"  
For several weeks now the young uncle had been excited about bringing his niece and nephew to the ice show, hoping it would somehow brighten their lives. Today marked an anniversary of sorts-- four years to the day Takenoriand Ayako had died. Four years, and Hanamichi was still having trouble understanding why his parents had been taken from them. It was good to see the children behaving normally, fussing at one another on a day that, otherwise, could be a sad one for all of them.  
"Hanamichi, leave your sister alone. Try enjoying the show."  
The kettledrums rumbled; the music swelled to a loud crescendo, then dropped again as a lone voice sang, "I'll find my love someday-- someday when my prince shall come..."  
"There! There he is--he's coming!" Haruko tugged at her uncle's shirt with one hand and pointed to the far corner of the big arena with the other. "See him, Uncle? There! Right where the fog is thickest!"  
Out of the fog in a flash of speed and grace, clad in gleaming white satin, skated Prince Charming in all his glory.  
"That's him, Hanamichi! That's him, Prince Charming!" Haruko excitedly turned to her brother, who was sitting on the edge of his seat watching the male skater. "Keep practicing and you'll be able to do a spread-eagle like that." Kogure pinched his arm lightly. "Yours is pretty good already, for an eight-year-old."  
As the music slowed to a romantic pace, so did the prince as he performed an audience favorite--a long, graceful spiral.  
Suddenly the music stopped, and so did the performer. An aura of anticipation filled the air as the hall became silent and the heavy fog crawled swiftly across the ice, creeping into all four corners, eerily hovering around the feet of the prince as he caught sight of Snow White. He pushed off with one foot and glided slowly toward the sleeping beauty.  
"Isn't he gonna kiss her and wake her up?"  
Kogure smoothed his niece's hair and tried to mask his amusement as he viewed through slightly fogged spectacles eyes watery with concern. "Just wait, Haruko! Keep watching."  
Deliberately, lovingly, the skater lowered his face to the maiden's pink lips with a gentle, lingering kiss, as a violin played softly.  
Snow White's lashes fluttered. The dwarfs gasped and began chattering to one another. She blinked her eyes, then opened them wide as she sat up and stretched--first one arm and then the other--followed by an exaggerated yawn.  
The prince took her dainty hand in his and lifted it to his lips as she lowered her feet to the ice and stood before him. The bright blue brodice of her snug-fitting dress accentuated her small waist as the flowing red skirt fluttered and billowed about her slender hips. The perfectly matched couple began to move to the music-- slowly at first, then more rapidly as they dance across the ice, the spotlight following their every twist and turn, ending with a CRÈME DE LA CRÈME_ , _the phenomenal death spiral and a final kiss.  
With the clanging of cymbals and the banging of kettledrums, the music ended. The bright lights shut off. The arena was encased in darkness as the crowd burst into the thunderous applause. Spotlights exploded forth, penetrating the blackness of the room, moving in erratic zigzag patterns across the ice in a brilliant assortment of colors. But Snow White and Prince Charming were nowhere to be seen.  
Haruko tugged at her uncle's sleeve again.  
Kogure smiled at his niece. "Be patient, Haruko." The beams of light moved collectively to the center of the ice and focused there as Snow White skated into the lighted area, lifted one side of her long red skirt, and curtsied. The audience went wild with applause.  
Prince Charming skated into the circle of light and bowed low. Again the crowd went wild, cheering, whistling and clapping as they gave the pair a standing ovation. Then, out of the darkness, six miniature men skated into the light and dropped to their knees around the beautiful couple, enjoying their portion of the well-deserved applause.  
Hanamichi counted aloud, "One, two, three, four, five, six. Somebody's missing!"  
"It's Dopey!" Haruko shouted. "Where's Dopey?"  
From a far corner, the little man skated clumsily into the spotlight, clutching a huge bouquet of long-stemmed red roses in his stubby arms. When he lifted them to Snow White, she bent and kissed him on the nose, to everyone's delight.  
Dozen of spotlights in every color of the rainbow began to weave intertwining ovals as the rest of the Ice Fantasy cast skated onto the ice to receive accolades. "Ladies and Gentlemen," the voice of the announcer echoed from the loud speakers as the houselights came on, "thank you for coming, and drive home safely. Good night."  
  
A single hand wound it's way out from the bed sheets and punched the snooze button when the alarm clock jangled. Six a.m. was still dark. Saturday wasn't a school day, the kids could sleep in, but Kogure had to get up as early today as he did every other day of the week. He fumbled for the snooze button for the second time but decided against prolonging the agony and threw back the covers. Reaching out he took his glasses beside the alarm clock and rubbed his eyes before wearing them.  
He'd barely finished his toast and was working on a glass of juice when he heard the key turn in the lock of the outside door and a tall, slender woman with salt-and-pepper hair entered the kitchen. "Morning, Mother Anzai."  
The smiling woman placed a cookie sheet on the table and tugged at the fingers of her glove. "Morning, yourself. How was the ice show?" She lifted the linen napkin covering the pan. The aroma of hot, freshly baked cinnamon rolls loaded with caramel and pecans filled the country kitchen. "Can I tempt you with these?"  
"Yes! Thanks, Mother Anzai." Kogure grabbed a sticky rolland bit it with delight. "When did you bake these? It's barely 6:15."  
"Last night; reheated them this morning. I knew how hard this week would be for you. I wanted to do something special, to help you get through it. You'd better be going."  
Kogure gulped his juice, wrapped the remainder of his cinnamon roll in a napkin, and wiggled into his heavy jacket. "See you at noon."  
Once at the ice rink that he owned jointly with his in-laws, Kogure flipped on the string of lights and slipped into the little snack bar where the electric oil-filled heater waited to be plugged in. He filled the coffeepot, flipped the 'on' switch, and pulled his coat about his neck.  
The buzzer on the outside door sounded. A quick look through the peephole revealed four mothers with four children, each child holding a pair of ice skates.Kogure lifted the the latch that held the door open as they filed in, one by one.  
"Sure hated to get out of bed this morning," one of the mothers admitted as she sniffed the air. "Coffee smells good."   
Kogure grinned and gestured toward the perking pot. "It'll be ready in a minute."  
"Did you see the ice show in Kemper?" a yawning mother asked as she plopped onto a stool and leaned her head against the wall. "That Fujima Kenji is a real hunk."  
"Skates good too." another added. "You agree, Kogure?"  
Kogure nodded, then turned his attention to the sleepy children, who stood watching like zombies. "It's time for you guys to get those skates on. Your patch is waiting."  
"Don't you ever get tired of getting up this early to let people in to skate?" a mother asked as she poured herself a second cup of coffee. "Sometimes I wonder if it's worth it."  
Kogure pulled a caramel-covered pecan from his roll and looked thoughtful. "No, not really. Working at this rink makes it possible for me to take good care of the children and be home with them when they need me. I can't complain."  
After their parent's death, Kogure had insisted that he carry his share of the load. His father-in-law couldn't handle it by himself. Their agreed-upon arrangement had worked out perfectly, with Mrs. Anzai serving as the willing, available baby-sitter. Haruko was three weeks old when Takenori and Ayako died in the plane crash; she never knew about her parents.  
In the little office with its clear view of the rink, Kogure sat and punched the calculator while adjusting his glasses. Father Anzai ran the afternoon and evening skating sessions, but he was the one who tallied and recorded the sessions and filled out bank deposits, just as Takenori had when he was alive.  
He watched with amusement as an overweight girl in her midteens struggled with her three-turns as her mother gruffly barked advice from the first row.  
It was five minutes past noon when Kogure slipped quietly through the kitchen door. A pot of homemade vegetable beef stew simmered on the stove. Mother Anzai's sweet voice could be heard as she sat in the rocking chair reading SNOW WHITE AND THE SEVEN DWARFSto an appreciative four-year-old. The young uncle walked silently into the roomand seated himself carefully on the sofa beside Hanamichi. Mother Anzai looked up, but Haruko was too engrossed in the story to notice Kogure.  
"And they lived happily ever after. The end!" Mother Anzai announced with a flourish as she closed the book.  
Haruko kissed her grandmother's cheek before leaping off her lap and into her uncle's. Kogure cradled his nephew to his chest and said gratefully, "Thanks, Mother Anzai. You're very special."  
His mother-in-law crossed the room and squeezed Kogure's shoulder affectionately. "So are you. Enjoy the soup."  
Kogure watched as she pulled on her coat and headed for her own home, only a hundred feet from theirs. Since Takenori's and Ayako's deaths, she had been coming over 6:15 every morning to care for the children so Kogure could open the rink for the 'patchers,' as they called them. By now, it was a ritual. Kogure would return home, eat, and then take some of the soup to Father Anzai. He'd eat, bid him goodbye, and head for the rink in time to open at 1:30. At 4:00, 4:30, and 5:00 o'clock,he would give private lessons, then run home for a bite of supper and be back to the rink by 6:30 to give a group lesson. Then he would open for the evening session at 7:30. But it was Mother Anzai who kept them all going. She worked quietly in the background, caring for the children all morning so Kogure could work and be home with them for the rest of the day.  
  
When Kogure rolled out of bed Sunday morning at seven, a luxury he enjoyed only once a week, Mother Anzai was sitting in the kitchen sipping freshly brewed coffee. "How long have you been here? Why didn't you wake me?" the young Kiminobu poured himself a mug of hot coffee and plopped into the oak pressed-back chair.  
"Came over early. I didn't mind the wait-- I knew you could use the extra sleep. Besides, it's Sunday."  
The young man wearily rose to his feet and pulled on his heavy jacket. "That means I'd better hustle if I'm gonna close out last night's receipts."  
"Want me to go with you, Uncle?" Hanamichi stood there, dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, his feet covered with the worn cowboy boots he loved so much.  
Kogure reached out a hand and grinned at his nephew. "Sure! I'd love the company."  
The rink seemed exceptionally cold when they entered. He set about counting the admissions and preparing the bank deposit. Hanamichi placed the nickels, dimes, and quarters in the tray, counting them aloud as he deposited each coin. The two were startled by the sound of the buzzer. He checked his watch: 7:45. Maybe one of the skaters forgot what day of the week it was; who else would be buzzing on Sunday?  
"I'll get it!" Hanamichi volunteered as he jumped from the stool and raced toward the door, ready to fling it open.  
"No, Hanamichi! Wait!" his uncle cautioned, his hands full of dollar bills, half-counted. "Don't open the door!"  
Hanamichi climbed onto a chair and peered out the peehole.  
"Uncle Kogure!" he shouted as he leaped from the chair and ran toward his uncle, a broad smile dominating his shining face. "It's Prince Charming! He's at our door!" He grabbed his uncle by the arm and dragged him from the stool. "Aren't you going to let him in?"  
Kogure drew back. "Hanamichi; stop! Prince Charming wouldn't be at our door, especially time time of morning. It's Sunday. He's miles from here right now."  
Hanamichi was relentless. "Yes, he is, Uncle. Honest! It's him; I know it it. Come and see!" He released his hold and ran back to the peephole as the buzzer sounded a second time.  
Kogure placed the money tray and the loose bills in the drawer and locked it securely, then hurried to the door. Sure enough, there stood Prince Charming, waiting patiently.  
"See, Uncle? I told you so!" Hanamichi tugged at the dead bolt on the door as his uncle stood gazing out the peephole. "Uncle, he's cold! Let him in!"  
Kogure took one last look, then opened the door.  
"Hi." The handsome skater smiled at the dazzled young man and his nephew. "I saw your car parked by the door and hoped someone would be here. Do you rent ice time here at the Ice Palace?"  
Hanamichi yanked at his sleeve. "Uncle-- say something."  
"Yes. No. I mean, yes, we do, but not on Sunday." he felt like a dork as he stood in the doorway, his hair barely combed, his frayed jacket zipped to the neck. He was sure he did not recognize him, not the way he looked.  
The man smiled at Hanamichi. "Hey, kid, you a skater?"  
Hanamichi returned his smile. "Yep. But not as good as you."  
"Oh, you've seen me skate, have you? At the show here in Kansas City this week?" He stuffed his hands deeply into his pockets and shivered.  
Kogure blushed and stepped back. "The building is cold, but at least the wind isn't blowing in here."  
He strode in and closed and locked the door behind him. He should have been frightened, but after all, he had met him before, if only for a minute. And he _was_ Prince Charming; surely Prince Charming would do them no harm.  
"Let me introduce myself--officially." he winked at Hanamichi as he extended a gloved hand. "I'm Fujima Kenji."  
Hanamichi stood straight and tall and reached out his hand to shake the skater's. "Hi, I'm Akagi Hanamichi. This is my uncle, Kiminobu Kogure."  
Fujima Kenji shook the small hand vigurously. "Pleased to meet you, Hanamichi. What a fine, well-mannered young man you are." Then, looking at the boy's uncle, the man did a double take. "You're the man I met at Wal-Mart!"  
Frozen to the spot, he responded with a dull, "Uh-huh," and nodded his head and wished he didn't look so dowdy.  
"Well, then, Mr. Kiminobu, you may know Kansas City was the last stop on our tour; we've been traveling for two years with this production. I have three weeks off before we begin rehersals for the new show." He looked at the boy. "I'm here to visit my parents, Hanamichi. They live in Overland Park. I need to start practicing my new role as the Beast." he laughed, screwed up his face and crossed his eyes. "I'd like to stay in Kansas City and spend time with my parents. But, I have to find an available rink in this area or I'll have to go on to Florida to begin practice."  
Kogure listened intently, trying to keep her mind from wandering to thoughts of him skating so beautifully in that white satin costume.  
"So, I'll take any time you have available. And of course, I'll pay whatever the going rate is. I'd like to have at least an hour a day-- more if I can get it."  
"Uncle..." Hanamichi nudged his side with his elbow.  
"I'll-- uh-- have to ask my father-in-law," he responded weakly, still in shock at seeing the prince. "But I'm sure he'll work something out for you." He pulled Hanamichi in front of him and wrapped his arms about him, almost like a shield.  
"I need to get started as soon as I can. Tomorrow, if possible." He grabbed the boy by the hand. "Hey, Hanamichi. How about showing me the ice?"  
Hanamichi pulled away from his uncle and led the man toward the big double doors. "Sure," he said with youthful enthusiasm.  
Kogure hurried to the phone and called Father Anzai. "What do YOU think about this, Kogure? It'll have to be early in the morning-- that's the only time an hour or more is available. You'll have to stay there with him. Are you willing to be there by 5:15? That's pretty early."  
He grinned and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "What's the difference?-- 5:15, 6:15, early is early! And he's willing to pay whatever we ask," he added as he peered through the windows of the double-doors and watched his nephew's mouth moving rapid-fire. How he wished he could hear his conversation with the man.  
"It's fine with me, Ho ho ho." he agreed.  
The double-doors swung open, and the man and boy came strolling through, laughing and talking like old friends. Sadness welled up in Kogure's heart. How much his nephew had missed without a father or mother to talk to and be with.  
Kenji raised his brows. "Well, what's the good word?"  
He smiled, first at Hanamichi, then then skater. "If you can come mornins by 5:15, you'll have a whole hour. Is that acceptable?"  
He rubbed his hands together briskly. "Great. And thanks, I appreciate it. I think my folks will, too."  
He moved towards the door and unlocked it. "Hope I didn't keep you too long." he ruffled Hanamichi's hair with his big hand before stepping throught the open door. "See ya at 5:15 tomorrow morning!"  
Hanamichi ran to his uncle and gave him a bear hug. "Wow! Prince Charming! Wait'll I tell the kids at school!"  
  
Fujima Kenji sat in his car with the motor running, listening to the radio and thinking of his future. He checked his watch: five o' clock. He'd arrive early, anxious to start practicing his new assignment as the Beast. He drummed his fingertips on the steering wheel in time to the music. What if Mr. Kiminobu had forgotten about him? No, not likely. He had a feeling he was more responsible than that. He'd liked the man immediately, but he had wondered why anybody would allow their son to be out this time of the morning, meeting with a stranger.  
A bread truck pulled into the parking lot and stopped next to his car. The driver waved, placed boxes of buns on the empty rack standing beside the door, and drove off. Headlights splashed across Kenji's face as a minivan pulled into the parking lot and parked beside him. The lone occupant, a man, opened the door and stepped out. He smiled, waved to him, and turned off the engine.  
Kogure returned his smile, waved back, and moved to open the door. He followed him in, shut the door, and turned the dead bolt. A sudden chill ran down his spine; he was locked in the building at 5:15 in the morning, alone with a man he barely knew. He moved quickly to turn on the long string of florescent ceiling lights, and the area was instantly flooded with a harsh, glaring brilliance. He could feel his eyes watching him as he stood silently near the door.  
"Okay if I go on in and get my skates on?" he asked.  
Suddenly he felt ridiculous. This was a business arrangement. He was there to practice--nothing else. "Sure. Of course," he called back over his shoulder and headed toward the snack bar. "You drink coffee? I'll have something ready in a few minutes." But his words were wasted; he'd already disappeared into the rink to lace up his skates.  
When the coffee finished dripping, he poured two steaming mugfuls and slipped quietly throught the double doors. There he was, etching perfect figure-eights onto the ice.  
"Come and take time out for a cup of coffee. It'll help warm you up," he invited as he placed his mug onto the smooth railing that surrounded the ice.  
He finished the figures, then glided silently toward him and sipped the coffee. "Umm, good. Thanks." he leaned against the railing and held the warm mug between cold hands. With his skates on, he was nearly a head taller than Kogure, and he had to look up to see his smile.  
"I know you don't know much about me, Mr.Kiminobu, but I want you to assure you-- I AM trustworthy." he took a big swallow of coffee and grinned at him.. "You're perfectly safe with me."  
He lowered his gaze to the floor to avoid his eyes. Had he sensed his fear? It wasn't that he was afraid; it was just that he hadn't been this alone with anyone since Takenori and Ayako died, and there was something so intimate about meeting strange man in a deserted Ice rink at 5:15 in the morning.  
"I know...I...uh...don't mean to keep you. From skating I mean." He felt himself stumbling over his words.  
He took a last swig and gave a chuckle. "You're not. I needed the coffee. Thank you," he said warmly.  
"I'll go back to the office and give you some privacy," he explained as he pulled his scarf about his neck and began to head towards the doors with the empty mugs.  
"I'm used to skating before an audience, remember?" He did a quick twil and added, "Honest; I'd like you to stay. Maybe you could help me with this routine."  
"Uh... sure." He lowered himself into the front row seat. "What can I do?"  
He winked a friendly wink. "I'll let you know."  
He tightened the loop on his scarf, button the top button on his jacket, and pulled his gloves onto chilled, stiff fingers, then watched in awe as the professional skater went through an old routine to loosen up. He stopped at the far end of the rink and stood watching him, then skated with strong, quick strokes directly toward him. As he came within a few feet, he quickly turned the edges of his blades into the rink's surface and showered the empty chair next to him with a blizzard of finely shaved, snowy ice. "NOW you can help me," he said with a mischievous laugh.  
He brushed a few stray ice fragments from his sleeve and returned his smile. "How?"  
He pulled an audiotape from his jacket pocket and handed it to him. "Can you put this on for me?"  
He crossed the rink, load the tape player, and punced the "play." The theme song from BEAUTY AND THE BEAST filled the rink as he began to skate. He slipped back into his chair and watched in amazement. From time to time he'd stop, listen to the music, and start again, as though recieving instructions from some unseen source.  
The hour was up all too soon, but he quit right on time.  
"All right with you if I leave the tape here?"  
"Sure," he mumbled as he sat down beside him and began to loosen the lace on his skates.  
"How about the skates?"  
"Uh, I'll lock them up in the office," he volunteered.  
The buzzer sounded on the outside door. The first group of regulars were ready to begin their patch session. Kenji allowed the skaters to enter before exiting through the door, then close it behind him.  
"Who was THAT?" one of the mothers asked as she riveted her eyes on the closed door.  
"Prince Charming," Kogure said coyly with a wink, leaving the stranger's true identity to their imaginations. 


	2. Chapter 2: The start of a friendship

Title: Ice Castle  
Part: 2/?  
Author: Jchan aka Juno  
Genre: yaoi  
Pairing: FujiKo  
Rating: G or PG... depends on how the story turns out  
Archive: SD Fic ML  
Email: RayYozora@hotmail.com  
Warning: OOC, AU fic  
  
  
He was sitting on the fender of his car whe he drove into the parking lot. There were things he wanted to know about Kiminobu Kogure-- like, where were Hanamichi's parents? Did they abandon him? He caught up with him, took the key from his hand, and turn it in the lock.  
"Been waiting long?" he asked breathlessly, cleaning fogged up glasses.  
"Nope. Just arrived." He pushed open the drop and stood back to allow him to enter, then locked the door behind them with a sheepish grin. "How can you look this great so early in the morning?"  
He blushed, both surprised and pleased by his question. He smiled shyly.  
"Considering all the good-looking men and women you skate with, I must seem like plain Jane. But thanks anyways."  
He stepped in front of him, spread his arms, and blocked his way. "I don't give compliments unless I mean them."  
Kogure's blush deepened, he flashed an embarrassed smile and gave his arm a friendly pat. " Turn on the lights. I'll get your skates."  
He filled the coffeepot and stood waiting for the water to filter through while adjusting his glasses. By the time the last drop had fallen into the glass pot, he was already on the ice, etching perfect eights with his skate blades. When he looked his way, he lifted his mug to let him know it was ready and waiting.  
This time he skated over and sat down on the seat beside him, their elbows touching. "Tell me about yourself, Mr. Kiminobu. Does Hanamichi's dad skate?" He sipped the hot coffee nonchalantly, as though merely making conversation.  
"Please; call me Kogure," he corrected through chattering teeth as he turned to face him, his bright eyes barely peeping over the upturned collar.  
He fingered the empty cup. "Only if you'll call me Kenji."  
"Kenji," He repeated slowly. "Were you named after your parents?"  
"No. How about Hanamichi-- was he named after HIS parents?"  
Kogure smiled as he thought of Takenori and Ayako. "No. He wasn't" He pressed back a tear but it ran slowly down his cheek.  
Kenji pulled the paper napkin from around his mug and gently blotted the tear from his face.  
"Sorry," he whispered through a watery smile. "It's been four years; you'd think I'd have gotten beyond doing this--"  
"They left Hanamichi when he was four?"  
"No! They died!" Kogure protested as he turned quickly toward him and lifted moist eyes to meet his. "The would never leave us; they loved us. We had a perfect family."  
Looking as though he felt a little foolish, Kenji continued asking questions. "How did they die?"  
"Plane crash." he answered with a slight sniffle.  
He fingered the handle of his cup. "Oh. Sorry."  
The two sat quietly, sipping their coffee.  
"You probably think I'm silly to be so emotional after four years." He forced a smile. "I mish them so much."   
"I think it's wonderful. If anything happened to me, I want somebody to feel just like you do," he confessed.  
He wiped away another tear, but he continued to smile. "You're married, Kenji? To one of those gorgeous women in the show?"  
He laughed, a good belly laugh. "No way! You should see 'em without their makeup!"  
"Have you considered marriage?" he asked, amazed at himself for prying into a stranger's personal life.  
"Marriage? No! I'm not about to ruin my life."  
His comment surprised him. "That's pretty cynical."  
"Not really. I've seen too many marital disasters. The last thing I want to do is get saddled with a wife and kids. No alimony and child support for THIS guy."  
His statement threw him off balance and offended him. He made marriage sound like cataclysm, somthing to be avoided at all costs. That was certainly not the way he saw it.  
"But not all marriages are like that!" he defended as he turned down the collar on his coat.  
"Name one that isn't," he scoffed.  
"Ayako's, for one. Ayako's and Takenori's."  
"Oh, really? Are you trying to tell me she'd never considered cheating on her husband? Not even once?"  
A deep scowl crossed his face and lingered there, all traces of any previous smile gone. "No! Never! She would never do that!"  
He scanned his face, then frowned and said softly, "Next, I suppose you're going to tell me she was a virgin on her wedding day."  
The heat rose in his cheeks at his comment. So personal. So blunt. " Yes, that is exactly what I'm telling you, Mr. Fujima. She was a virgin, and so was Takenori."  
"And you believed him? That he hadn't-- that there hadn't been any women before her? None of my acquaintances can truthfully make that claim. Most guys wear their conquest like a badge of victory. You'd be surprised how many guys brag about it."  
This conversation infuriated him. "Does that include you?" he asked with fire in his eyes behind spectacles. He wanted to punch him for suggesting that there may have been improperties in Ayako's life. Or Takenori's. He clenched his fist angrily and answered his question before he could answer his. "You needn't answer. But yes, we did believe him. We were all raised to have high standards, something that you apparently don't understand. I feel sorry for you, Fujima Kenji. To never love someone enough to trust them, to commit your life to them. Well, that's missing out one of the biggest blessings in life."  
He could feel his heart pounding; rarely did anyone stir up his emotions like this. "Don't underestimate marriage, Kenji. Granted, being married to the wrong person could be miserable. But if you're married to the one intented for you--"  
"Like Ayako's?"  
He forced a slight smile. "Yes. Like Ayako's. Then marriage can be beautiful, especially if it's blessed with children." There, he'd said enough. Subject closed!  
They sat silently as he continued to finger the handle on his coffee mug and he stared at the ceiling. They'd been having such a good, light conversation. It had turned so quickly.  
He crossed his arms over his chest, breathed deeply, and tried to get control of his anger. How could he possibl understand Ayako's position in marriage? On life? Why should he? His anger turned to pity. Without someone's leading, life was merely living, years passing by with no true purpose.  
Kenji broke the heavy silence. "Hey, look. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come off so strongly. Guess I'm pretty opinionated." He shifted nervously in the chair. "And as to your question," he explained with a look of sincerity that said I'M TELLING THE TRUTH, he went on, "No, that did NOT include me. I have no conquest to boast about, no badges of victory." He lowered his chin and mumbled softly, so softly he wasn't sure he's heard him right. "Not since..." But he didn't finish.  
He allowed a slight smile to surface. "I need to apologize now. I have strong opinions, too. It's just that these things are now important to me and close to my heart."  
His hand reached awkwardly towards his, and he felt the warmth of his fingers grasping his as he gave them an apologetic pat. " You have nothing to apologize for. I'm sorry for my behavior, and I hope you'll forgive me."  
He did come from a different world. Why should he expect him to share his perspective on marriage and fidelity? He felt sorry for him. He appeared to have so much, yet had so little. Disagreeing with Kenji wasn't going to accomplish anything.  
"I know you don't like kids, Kenji, but Hanamichi thinks you're wonderful. He asked me if he was going to get to see you again before you leave."  
"Hey," he returned defensively, "I like kids! I just don't want any of my own. Sure I'd like to see him. Especially since he's a skater." He bent over and tighten the laces on his skate. "Tell me when he'll be here and I'll make a point to come by. Maybe I can give him a few pointers."  
His eyes brightened at the thought. "Oh, he'd love that! I could bring him by Wednesday afternoon after school-- say about four o' clock? One of the patchers won't be in this week. Hanamichi could skat her area. Would that work with you?"  
"Wednesday it is!" he confirmed as he jumped over the railing and onto the ice. "Now if you'll put that tape on the machine, I've got practicing to do."  
  
Hanamichi ran to tell the neighbor kids when he heard that Kenji wanted to watch him skate.  
"Doesn't he want to watch ME skate, Uncle?" Haruko asked as she combed the long, tangled hair on her Barbie doll.  
Kogure lifted the little girl and gave her a big hug. "Of course he wants to watch you skate, honey."  
"Uncle, does he wear his Prince Charming suit when he skates at our rink?" the little girl asked as she struggled to extricate the brush from the doll's hair, tipping his glasses.  
Kogure tried to restrain a laugh and fixed his glasses. "No, sweetie. Just jeans and a plaid shirt kinda like Hanamichi wears."  
  
When Mother Anzai arrived Wednesday morning, Kogure was fully dressed and sipping coffee in the kitchen.  
"You're up early." Mrs. Anzai handed her son-in-law a brown paper bag, its top folded over like a lunch sack.  
"What's this?"  
Mother Anzai patted his hand and said with a curious smile, "I thought it'd be nice if you and Mr. Fujima had some homemade chocolate chip cookies for your coffee break."  
  
Fujima was leaning against the door when Kogure arrived at the rink. He smiled then ran to his side.   
"You're early," he chastised cheerily as he handed him the key and glanced at his watch.  
"You're pretty," he replied as he unlocked the door and pushed it open with his shoulder.  
He blushed and quickly entered and headed toward the coffeepot with his sack of goodies. "Flatterer."  
"What's this?" He leaned over the counter and picked up the brown bag. "Goodies for our break time?"  
He slapped his hand and grabbed the sack. "You'll find out soon enough. Now, go!"  
He saluted and headed for his office to get his skates.  
The coffee seemed to take longer than usual to perk. By the time he carried the mugs into the rink, he had finished his school figures and was skating in a long, easy-flowing circular pattern. When he noticed him, he skated and showered the area with the costumary cascade of snowy ice, and as usual, he laughed, clean his glasses, and brushed it from his sleeve.  
"You don't have to serve me refreshments every morning, you know." He took th hot mug of coffee and sniffed its pleasant aroma. "Umm. Just what I needed."  
"Oh?" he teased as he dangled and swung the brown bag before his eyes, just out of reach. "Look what I've got!"  
"Give me that," he ordered with a twinkle in his eye as he lunged at the elusive bag. His cheek brushed against Kogure's in the process, he backed off quickly, embarrased.  
He pretended it hadn't happened, opened the bag, and showed him the six giant chocolate chip cookies. "Mother Anzai baked these for us. Go on--take one. Don't be shy."  
He pulled a cookie from the bag, took a big bite, and rubbed his tummy with his palm. "Thank Mother Anzai for me; these are great! Homemade, huh?"  
He reached into the bag, selected a cookie for himself, and munched on it pensively. "Kenji, you said you wanted to stay in Kansas City area so you could spend time with your parents. Are you close to them?"  
He took another bite and looked off into space with a melancholy look. "Not very. Traveling so much makes it impossible to see them very often. I call at least twice a week, but it's not the same as being with them."  
Kogure offered the bag and he took a second cookie.  
"You're close to your in-laws?" heasked as I adjusted my glasses. "And they take good care of your nephew while you're working here?"  
"And Haruko."  
Kenji looked puzzled. "Haruko? Who's Haruko?"  
"My four-year-old niece, Haruko. Hanamichi's little sister. The delight of my life!" Hadn't he mention Haruko? Kenji raised his eyebrows in surprise, then frowned thoughtfully.  
"If Becca is four and her parents died four years ago, that means she was a little baby when they died. She probably doesn't even remember them.  
"Worse than that, Takenori didn't even know about her. She was born two months before Ayako went to Canada and died on the plane that crashed with Takenori's." He stood awkwardly and stretched as mixed emotions surged through his chilled body. "My in-laws live next door. Grandma comes over every morning. I come in here, work till noon, then go home. Want the rest of the schedule?"  
He nodded.  
He brushed the crumbs from his jacket, adjusted his glasses and continued. "She goes home and fixes lunch for Father Anzai. He comes to the rink and work the rest of the day." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, with a grin. "Then I come back the next morning and the cycle begins all over again. It's a good, workable schedule for all of us, and this way, we can keep the business in the family. They want me to be with the children as much as possible, and they're willing to do whatever is necessary to help make it happen." He shoved the bag toward him once more. "Sounds boring, doesn't it?"  
He shook his head and held up a hand. "No more for me; I've got skating to do!" he stood, grabbed the bag from his hands, and folded its top. "But I'll eat the rest of them when I'm finish. Keep 'em for me, okay? And don't forget to thank Grandma!"  
Some of the patchers arrived earlier than usual; there was only time to shout a brief good-bye and a quick reminder that Hanamichi woul be watching for him around four o' clock. Kenji nodded and assured him he'd be there as he shut the door behind him.  
The four mothers turned to watch him go, still not used to seeing Prince Charming in the Ice Palace.  
  
Gray clouds moved across the Kansas City sky as Fujima Kenji stared at the clock in the dashboard of his rented car; it was 3:30, and he was early. He'd never skated with an eight-year-old before. Could the little boy really skate? Id Kenji had a son, that's the way it'd be-- he'd have skates on the kid as soon as soon as he took his first steps.  
Kenji laughed aloud, a real belly laugh. A son? His son? Like he'd told Kogure, he'd nver even considered merriage, let alone children! When you travel from city to city and country to country, spening only a week at a time in any one place, marriage isn't in your vocabulary. No, as long as he was skating professionally, marriage was out of the question. He'd have plenty of time for that later, when and if the idea of marriage ever appealed to him. But would he ever meet a woman he could trust? One he'd want to marry? One who wouldn't marry him, then take him to the cleaners for alimony?  
The conversation he'd had with Kogure about Ayako's marriage to Takenori replayed in his mind. He'd like a woman to be pure, to have kept herself for him only, like Ayako had for Takenori, but he was nearly twenty-nine. Was there any woman his age who had remained pure? Not likely! He slumped in his seat, leaned back against the headrest, and closed his eye as he mentally began to skate through his new routine.  
  
"Uncle, do you think he'll remember to come?" Hanamichi asked from the backseat as they wizzed through traffic.  
Kogure adjusted his glasses and smiled at his nephew in the rearview mirror. "Of course he'll remember, Hanamichi. That's the last thing he said this morning. 'See you at four o' clock!' He'll be there."  
And sure enough, there was Kenji's rental car, parked next to the building by the front door. Apparntly hearing the sound of their engine, he straightened up and waved.  
"Kenji, I'm so sorry we're late," he called to him as he unbuckled Haruko's seat belt. "Heavy traffic."  
He locked his car and strolled over to where they were parked, never taking his eyes off the beautiful little girl.  
"So, this must be Haruko." He noted her soft, fluffy brown hair and incredibly blue eyes.  
Haruko smiled and wrapped her hand around her uncle's leg as she shyly twisted a lock of her hair.  
"This is Mr. Fujima, Haruko, the nice man you watched in the ice show. Remember? Prince Charming." He tugged at Haruko's arm and tried to break free of his niece's grasp. "Sorry, Kenji. Normally she's not this shy. I think she's intimidated at meeting Prince Charming. We all are," he confessed relunctantly as he adjusted his glasses  
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Haruko. I hope we can be friends. I've never been friends with a four-year-old before." His warm smile might have been intended for the little girl, but it melted a proud mother's heart.  
Kogure watched as Kenji took Hanamichi's hand in his, opened the door, and disappear into the rink.  
By the time Kenji and Hanamichi reached the ice, Kogure and Haruko were already seated, waiting. Hanamichi had warned his uncle that he din't want him hovering over him during his time with Kenji, so he'd chosen two seats that were several rows up and off to one side, where he and Haruko wouldn't be quite so conspicious.  
Hanamichi stepped onto the ice first as Kenji stood by the railing, watching. The patch didn't give Hanamichi much room to work but he gave it his all. Kogure didn't watch his nephew. He watched Kenji's jaw drop in amazement as he moved onto the ice beside Hanamichi and the two began to talk.  
"That's the Prince Charming we've heard so much about?"  
The young uncle turned toward the voice with a smile as an athletic-looking man in his early fifties dropped into the seat beside him and pulled Haruko onto his lap. Haruko squealed with delight and pulled his cap down over his eyes.  
"Hi, Father Anzai," Kogure said, adjusting his glasses. "Yep, that's him. I think he's impressed with Hanamichi's skating."  
He pushed his from his eyes and tickled his little granddaughter as she giggled an pulled away from his hold. "The kid's a natural; I've taught him everything he knows. Ho ho ho."  
The threesome observed quietly as the professional ice skater worked with Hanamichi on his school figures, then they hurried toward the end of the rink when the two skaters left the ice. By the time they reached them, Kenji and Hanamichi were already in their street shoes, laughing and wiping ice off their blades with an old towel from Hanamichi's bag.  
Hanamichi smiled confidently at his uncle and grandfather. "Hey, Uncle, Mr. Fujima said he'd teach me some more stuff before he leaves."  
Kogure touched his nephew lightly on his slim shoulder. "Hanamichi, don't you think it would be nice if you introduced your teacher to your grandfather?"  
Hanamichi took Father Anzai's hand in his. "Oh yeah. Sorry. Grandpa, this is Mr. Fujima. Mr. Fujima, this is my grandpa."  
SHORT AND SWEET, JUST LIKE A BOY, he thought.  
Fujima Kenji extended his hand with a broad smile. "Pleased to meet you, sir. I've heard many nice things about you and Mrs. Anzai--from Kogure and Hanamichi."  
The older man accepted his hand and gripped it firmly. "Nice to meet you. But please, call me Anzai."  
Kenji smiled. "Only if you'll all call me Kenji, and that includes you, Hanamichi." he tousled Hanamichi's red hair. And you too, Haruko. Will you call me Kenji?"  
Haruko twisted in her grandfather's arms and nodded her head, then leaned forward until her forehead touched Kenji's and rested there. "Kenji." she said with a giggle.  
He looked pleased, his smile bright and warm.  
"You in a hurry, Kenji?" Mr. Anzai asked as he lowered Haruko to the floor.  
"No, sir. Why?" He shifted his skate bag to shoulder and lifted his brows.  
"Got a few things I'd like to show ya," Anzai answered with a friendly 'Ho Ho Ho' as he took Kenji's arm and led him away.  
Kogure watched them go, he placed his glasses on the bridge of his nose then called out after them, "Thanks, Kenji. See you in the morning."  
Kenji spun back to answer. " You bet. I'll be there."  
  
Mr. Anzai led Fujima Kenji to his private office down a long hall, just beyond the skate room. "Oh!" said Kenji appreciatively when Anzai flipped on the light.  
The room was filled with rows of shelves supporting trophies in all sizes, colors, and shapes, each inscribed with the name Mr. Anzai. The walls were covered with photos, most in color, a few black and white. Many of them featured a man skating, spinning, performing jumps, spreadeagles, or spirals. The remainder pictured the same man accepting awards and shaking hands with dignitaries. The featured man was the same in each photo-- Mr. Anzai.  
Kenji was impressed. He had no idea that the Mr. Anzai who owned and operated Ice Palace was the same Mr. Anzai he'd heard about all his years in the skating world.  
"Why didn't Kogure tell me?"  
Mr. Anzai rubbed his chin. "Guess because he doesn't know a lot about me. Seems like I'm bragging or something. I don't talk about my past much. I quit skating professionally the year Mrs. Anzai and I got married."  
"But, why?" Kenji inquired with a puzzled look. "You were at the peak of your profession! Why'd you leave it?"Jim smiled a secretive little smile. "Love, son. Love. Ho Ho Ho"  
"Mrs. Anzai?"  
"Yep. Couldn't expect her to follow me all over the world. We wanted to settle down and raise a family. So I quit, bought this rink; been here over twenty-five years now."  
Kenji watched him as he talked. It was obvious he made the right decision-- for him.  
"What kind of goals have you set for yourself, Kenji?"  
Kenji leaned forward and looked at the man who'd blazed the professional trail before his time. "You're living it, sir! I want to own my own rink, maybe a couple of rinks. I'd like to train young skaters, maybe even steer some of them toward the Olympics." He leaned back with a modest grin. "I evn have a name for my rink."  
"Oh?" Anzai moved to stand beside his guest. "What?"  
Kenji straightened in the chair, excited to share his dreams with some who understood. "Ice Castle!"  
Anzai laughed (the usual, 'Ho Ho Ho') as he rubbed the five o' clock shadow forming on his ruddy chin. "Good name! Catchy and appropriate. Owning your own rink is an awesome responsibility, but there's nothing like it." He raked his fingers through his hair thoughtfully. "Umm. Ice Castle. I do like the name. Ho Ho Ho."  
Kenji folded his arms across his chest and sat gazing around the room. Mr. Anzai, ice skater extraordinaire, the owner and pro of the Ice Palace. It was too much to comprehend.  
"You married, Fujima?" His unexpected question came like a thunderbolt out of the blue, startling the young man.  
It was a simple question, yet the skater felt uncomfortable answering it, and paused. "No, sir."  
Anzai seated himslef in the straight-backed chair behind the cluttered desk, leaned back, and locked his hands behind his head. "Hate to tell you this, son, but you've been missing the greatest thing ever arranged for man. A good-looking guy like you should have his pick of women. Is it that you haven't found the right one yet?"  
Kenji pondered the question. "I'm not sure. I've always thought of marriage as an anchor around your neck-- being tied to one person, stripped of your freedom. Now, I don't know, especially after a conversation I had with Carlee."  
"You mean about Ayako and Takenori?"  
"Yes, sir. Ayako and Takenori's marriage. He made it sound like a good marriage was the ultimate goal in life. Talked like they were meant to be together."  
Anzai let out a long sigh. "And you don't believe him?"  
"I honestly think HE believes it, bu could that be? Do you think there's such things as fate?"  
Anzai templed his fingertips thoughtfully. "Yes, Kenji, I do." He smiled at Kenji across the cluttered desk. "I even think fate sent you into our lives. Ho Ho Ho."  
  
Fujima Kenji stayed at the rink much longer than he'd intended, watching and listening as Mr. Anzai gave privat lessons. He'd stumbled into a world he hadn't realized existed. In Kansa City, the home of his parents, of all places! He'd expected thse three weeks to be routine and dull and that he'd be anxious to join the rest of the cast and rehearsals. Now, the time was passing all too quickly.  
  
Kogure and the children had supper at the Anzais' home that evening. With Mr. Anzai, Hanamichi and Haruko talking about Fujima Kenji, Kogure and Mrs. Anzai barely got in a word.  
"I want to meet this young man," Mrs. Anzai told her son-in-law as the two of them cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. "Maybe he could come to dinner on Sunday. Why don't you invite him?"  
  
  
I had to end it somewhere, gomen.   



	3. Chapter 3: Want a hotdog?

Title: Ice Castle  
Part: 3/?  
Author: Jchan aka Juno  
Genre: yaoi  
Pairing: FujiKo  
Rating: I have no idea... can anyone tell me?  
Archive: SD Fic ML  
Email: RayYozora@hotmail.com  
Warning: OOC, AU fic  
  
  
Kogure told Kenji about the invitation to Sunday dinner when he took his break from skating. He crossed his legs and leaned back in the bleacher-type chair, sipping his coffee, and without hesitation answered, "Tell your mother-in-law I'd be happy to come."  
He was both surprised and happy. It had been months since either family had invited guests to their home.   
"Now I have a favor to ask." He pulled a videotape from his pocket. "This is a rough run-through of the numbers I'll be performing in the new show. I'll be happy to pay you for your time. I need you to watch the tape while I skate, making sure I'm doing everything in the proper sequence. Could you do that for me?"  
"Of course I'll do it, Kenji," he replied eagerly. "And I'd never allow you to pay me for it."  
"Yes!" he shouted as a double-up fist shot into the air, much like he'd seen Hanamichi do when something was going his way. "I'll pick one of those portable TV-VCR units this afternoon."  
"Great. I'm happy to help." He had a sudden flash of an idea and spoke before he had a chance to think it through. "Kenji, do you have plans for this evening?"  
He looked puzzled. "No. Why?"  
At once, he felt brazen and ridiculous. "Never mind."  
"Oh, no, you don't! You're not getting off that easy. Why did you want to know about my plans for this evening?" He crossed his arms and waited.  
"Well," he began slowly, wishing he'd kept his mouth shut, "I was thinking, if you don't have any plans, maybe you'd like to come over for hot dogs." He really felt foolish inviting Prince Charming for hot dogs.  
"I'll be there," he agreed without hesitation. "What time? I'll need the address."  
His quick answer caught him off-guard. "Oh, six, seven... whatever works for you," he mumbled incoherently.  
A sly smile crept across his face. "Good! Hot dogs are my favorite food!"  
  
When Hanamichi got home from school, he took one look at the immaculate house and asked, "Who's coming?"  
He greeted him with a sideways smile. "You're right; someone is coming for supper tonight. Now put your books away."  
Hanamichi's brows furrowed. "Does that mean we aren't gonna have hot dogs? Remember, Uncle, Thursday is hot dog night."  
Before he could answer, Haruko grabbed her brother's hand and blurted out, "I got a secret, Hanamcihi. Wanna hear it? Prince Charming is gonna eat hot dogs with us."  
"Uncle?" Hanamichi ran to his uncle and threw both arms around his waist. "Really? Is Haruko telling the truth?"  
"Would you like that, Hanamichi?"  
His eyes sparkled. "Yeah. He's really coming?"  
"Yes, he is. Would you like to help me build a nice big fire in the fireplace? We'll roast our hot dogs there."  
The look on Hanamichi's face caused a tightness around his uncle's heart. Was he making a mistake allowing Kenji into their lives? He'd be in Kansas City such a short time. He couldn't stand the thought that Hanamichi becoming attached to this man, only to lose him like he had his parents. But that was different; Kenji was only a friend, a short-term friend.  
  
Fujima Kenji stepped onto Kogure's front porch right at six o' clock. He hadn't been specific about the time, and he hoped he wasn't pushing it by showing up so early. He'd been excited about the invitation all day, since he'd left Kogure at the rink nearly twelve hours earlier. He'd even stopped at the florist on the way to their house and picked out a colorful bunch of flowers. He couldn't remember the last time he bought flowers for anyone, other than his mother, and he usually wired those.  
No more angry words had passed between Kenji and Kogure since that early morning at the rink when they'd discussed Ayako's and Takenori's marriage. Although the subject had never come up again, it hung heavily between them like an unseen veil. He hoped he'd think of the flowers as a peace offering, but he'd never suggest it to him. His words had etched themselves indelibly on his being. He'd never forget them.  
  
Kogure checked the house one final time, with an inquisitive little Haruko at his heels. Everything was in its place. The porch! He hadn't swept the front porch! "Hanamichi," he ordered as he straightened the coffee table's magazine for the third time, "bring me the broom."  
He did as he was told. He smiled at his nephew, adjusted his glasses, grabbed the broom, and rushed out the door, only to find his expected guest standing on the porch, one hand reaching for the doorbell, the other holding a bouquet of flowers. The startled look that crossed his face was quickly replaced with a broad smile. "Sorry; you surprised me."  
He extended the flowers awkwardly. "For you," he said with a smile that reminded him of the way Hanamichi smiled when he wanted to gain favor. The flowers remained suspended in midair; the intended recipient not quite sure what to do about them.  
"Wanna trade?" Kenji reached his free hand toward the broom handle, which he was holding onto for support.  
"I...uh...was going to sweep the porch before you came. You know...leaves. Leaves have blown...up here." He knew he sounded like a bumbling idiot. What was wrong with him?  
"You don't have to do that for me. I really don't mind stepping over a few leaves," he teased.  
The blush returned. It seemed to appear often since Fujima Kenji had skated into his life.  
"Here. You take the flowers. I'll take the broom and sweep the porch for my supper. Fair trade?"  
He relinquished the broom handle and accepted the bouquet. "Thanks-- for the flowers. And, sure, sweep if you want." He added, "But it's really not necessary. Honest!"  
Kogure and the children stood in the doorway and watched as he deftly swished the broom to and fro across the concrete porch. The flowers smelled sweet as he held them to his face and rubbed the velvety softness of their petals across his lips. No one had brought him flowers since Ayako and Takenori had died.  
"There." He leaned the broom against the brick wall. "All finished! That better pass inspection, Mr. Kiminobu; I'm hungry for those hot dogs."  
He hadn't noticed, until now, how deep his dimples were. And he liked them. They fit him and his personality.  
He followed him and the children into the house, then looked around, taking in everything in the living room. "It's just like I thought it would be. Cozy, cheerful, and warm."  
Hanamichi tugged at his hand. "Come on, Kenji. Uncle doesn't let us play in this room."  
Kenji pointed an accusing finger at Kogure. "That so, Uncle? You won't let us play in this room? Why not?"  
" 'Cause we're messy," Haruko volunteered as she pulled a naked Barbie doll out from under the edge of the chintz sofa.  
Kenji laughed as he lowered himself onto one knee and checked out Haruko's unclothed Barbie. "Okay, now that you children have thoroughly embarrassed your uncle, how about showing me your rooms?"  
He swept Haruko up in his arms and placed her on his broad shoulders as the little girl squealed with glee and hollered, "Whee!"  
Kenji turned to the younger boy who was watching his sister with rapt attention. "Lead the way, Hanamichi."  
Hanamichi looked at his uncle for approval, then ran toward his room, followed by Kenji with Haruko wiggling on his shoulders and Kogure following close behind in a haze of emotions.  
After the tour of all of the rooms in the house, including the basement, which Kogure hadn't cleaned, their guest plopped himself down in the middle of the family room. He pulled Hanamichi down with him, playfully pinning the boy to the floor.  
"Help me, Haruko," Hanamichi called his sister as he struggled to get free.  
A giddy Haruko rushed toward the dueling duo and threw herself into the midst. Kenji pulled her into the fracas as Haruko's and Hanamichi's laughter filled the room and Kogure looked on, his heart bursting with emotion as he viewed the scene. It was difficult to hold back tears of joy he was experiencing. But, he knew he had no choice. None of them would have understood, and at this point, neither did he.  
"Kenji, wanna see my baseballs? They're in my closet," Hanamichi asked when he was too tired to wrestle anymore and needed a way to quit and still save face.Kenji looked pleased. "Sure. Can Haruko come too? Is she allowed in your territory?" he asked as he once again hoisted the little girl to his shoulders.  
Hanamichi grinned impishly. "Okay. Just this one time."  
Kenji lifted his face toward Haruko's. "You won't bother any of Hanamichi's stuff, will you?"  
Haruko answered by running her fingers through Kenji's beautiful brown hair.  
"Haruko! Stop!" her uncle cautioned.  
But Kenji and the two children didn't hear; they were headed for Hanamichi's room and the baseballs.  
  
Hanamichi's room was as neat as a magazine photo. It was obvious his uncle's cleaning hand had been there. Kenji thought of his own room when he was Hanamichi's age, he sweatdropped. His mother decided a child's room had no place on the second floor with the other perfectly kept bedrooms. She'd hired carpenters to close in the attic area and create a bedroom for her only son when he became old enough to 'make a mess,' as she called it. And once he moved into it, his mother had avoided his room. The cleaning woman knew more about its contents than she did.  
"Kenji, do you want to see my Bobby Richardson ball?"  
Hanamichi's words brought Kenji back to reality. He sat on the boy's bed with Haruko still firmly planted on his shoulders as Hanamichi proudly held a marred baseball in his hands. He took it and examined it carefully. "It's signed!"  
"Uh-huh. My dad bought it from a guy 'cause he knew I'd wanna keep it. He told me all about Bobby Richardson."  
The skater gave Hanamichi his full attention as the boy pulled baseball after baseball from a box in his closet. Most of the balls had no momentary value, but they'd been signed by Hanamichi's B-ball coaches and friends who played ball with Hanamichi. He was as proud as if they'd been signed by Mickey Mantle himself. Kenji handled each one as if they were special.   
He took a quick glance around the room and noticed a basketball lying on the ground. "You play basketball?" he asked, startling Hanamichi, who smiled and picked the ball up. "Yep, loved playing it ever since I was four." he said, Haruko tried to reach the ball, but to no avail. "Heh, even Haruko liked playing it with me."  
A wonderful aroma drifted through the house. Hanamichi placed the basketball down and led Kenji into the family room in time to see Kogure place a tray of steaming hot nachos in the center of the coffee table. "Thought these might tide you over till the fire gets going well enough to roast our hot dogs. And," he added as he offered a box of matches to their guest, "you are appointed chief fire-builder, and Hanamichi will help you."  
Kenji lifted Haruko from his shoulders and lowered her onto the sofa, then retrieved the badly abused barbie from the floor and placed it in the little girl's lap. She hugged the doll tightly to her breast. He turned to Kogure with an amused glimmer. "Do all of you like collecting things?"  
Before he could answer, Haruko did! "Yeah! I have a lot of Barbies and Uncle gots lots of figurines." Turning to her uncle, she added. "Uncle, show Kenji YOUR toys."  
Her uncle adjusted his glasses.  
"Kogure, is that right?" Kenji taunted as he sauntered slowly toward the bespectacled uncle. "Do you really have a figurine collection?"  
"Show him, Uncle," his niece insisted as she swung the Barbie in wide circles by her long, matted hair.  
"Yes, Uncle! Show me!" Kenji mimicked in a high-pitched falsetto voice as he tilted his head toward the young man.  
Kogure lowered his head shyly, annoyed with Haruko for revealing his secret. "Okay, maybe after supper. Right now, you three need to get that fire going."  
"Promise? After supper you'll show me your toys?" Kenji kidded as the children giggled.  
"After supper, I promise," he said, symbolically crossing his heart. "Now, get that fire going."  
While they worked at building the fire, he made several trips to the kitchen, bringing in trays loaded with hot dogs, buns, mustard, relish, catsup, chopped onions, grated cheese, and other goodies. The final tray held a big pot of homemade baked beans. The wonderful scent of bacon-embellished beans in an open pot quickly drew Kenji's attention from the full-blown fire he'd prepared for the hot dog cooking. Two exuberant children jumped on his lap. Their uncle moved to push them off, saying, "Hey, kids. Leave Kenji alone. Come on now! Get off his lap!" He tugged and pulled on Haruko, who clung to Kenji's neck and wouldn't let go.  
Kenji gently but firmly took hold of Kogure's wrists and puled them away from the little girl who clung to him. "Kogure! It's okay. Really. I like it!" He pulled Haruko onto his lap and circled his strong arms about her. She instantly stopped struggling and leaned her head against his chest, one small hand tristing a lock of his hair.  
He pulled her closer to him. "You know, Kogure, I never understood why my friends envied me for NOT having any brothers or sisters. My life was pretty lonely. I'd have given anything to have a brother or sister to fight with. I missed so much and I always wondered why my parents never had any more children. Sometimes I thought it was because I was so bad." His slight laugh had a melancholy sound. "Maybe I was too much trouble for them." He rubbed his cheek across the top of Haruko's head and sniffed the leftover fragrance of the baby's shampoo. "They don't know what they missed."  
Kogure smiled and pulled Hanamichi onto his lap. The four of them sat quietly gazing into the warm glow of the fire. Kenji gently slid his free arm around Kogure's shoulder and found himself feeling very comfortable.  
He stiffened at the touch of his arm, but only for a moment. Nobody had been that close in four years. How he missed the strength, the security, and the true love of a person. He relaxed and found himself magnetically drawn to his nearness.  
The fire snapped, sparks sizzled, and the room filled with a cozy warmth, but its origin was not the blazing logs; it was generated by the foursome on the sofa. It penetrated their minds, hearts, and bodies as they enjoyed one another's company. Kogure found himself enjoying the closeness a little too much, and it frightened him. He wanted to press himself into Kenji's arm, to rest his head on his shoulder, to feel his breath on his hair.  
But there was no place in his life for a three-week fling.  
And he knew there was no place in Kenji's life for a man or woman with a ready-made family, not that he'd be interested in him. What did he have that he could find in any state? Besides, Kenji might not even swing that way. No, he was nothing in his world. How could he even think there might be anything between them?  
"Kogure!"  
"Umm--what?" he adjusted his glasses. He'd been caught daydreaming.  
"Can we eat now?" Hanamichi shook his uncle, Kogure blinked and took off his glasses. He cleaned the lens and laughed, putting them back on. "Sure, eat your fill."  
Hanamichi smiled and jumped off Kogure, Kogure pulled three hot dog holders from a long box and handed one to Hanamichi, one to Kenji, and kept one for himself.  
"Where's mine?" Haruko asked, her lower lip curling downward.  
Kenji jumped in. "Oh, Haruko. I wanted to cook yours with mine. Please? Won't you let me?"  
Haruko's disappointment disappeared, and she lifted two arms and encircled them about Kenji's neck. "I want my hot dog cooked with yours," she told him with a winning smile that would melt a snowman.  
"Uncle, I'll cook yours with mine," Hanamichi volunteered with authority as he poked two hot dogs onto the long spike.  
"Good idea," Kenji agreed as he slid his free arm around Hanamichi's shoulder and gave him a wink. "We will cook the hot dogs; you prepare the buns. Right Hanamichi?"  
"Right," Hanamichi replied in a voice much lower than his usual one. Kogure was surprised to see the young boy mimicking their guest. His nephew was growing up.  
The hot dogs vanished quickly as the foursome laughed their way through supper. Kogure was amazed at the amount of food the children consumed and concluded it must be due to the joyful atmosphere created by Kenji's presence.  
"Anyone for dessert?" he asked after the hot dog mess had been banished to the kitchen. "Fresh apple pie with cinnamon and topped with scoops of French vanilla ice cream?"  
Kenji, Haruko and Hanamichi all shouted "Yes!" at once.  
When it was served, Kenji took one bite and frowned.  
"What's wrong? Isn't the pie okay?" He'd been so complimentary about his cooking so far; what could be wrong?  
He took another bite and closed his eyes. "Ummmm."  
"What?" He couldn't imagine what was wrong; the pie tasted fine to him.  
His eyes opened slowly, as if he were in deep thought. "I was trying to remember if I'd ever eaten any pie that was better than this pie. And you know what? I haven't!"  
A pink flush rose across his face as Kogure smiled.  
"This is fantastic," he added as he took another bite. "Did you really bake this, Kogure? From scratch? You're sure it's not from Perkins?"  
He was both speechless and flattered by his compliment.  
"Uncle made this pie. I saw him," Haruko said with her mouthful of ice cream.  
"Haruko," her uncle corrected as she applied a napkin to his niece's delicate face. "How many times have I told you not to talk with your mouth full?"  
The little girl swallowed hard and pointed a finger to Kenji. "He talked with his mouth full, too. I saw him."  
Now it was Kenji's turn to blush. "Caught me!"  
After supper, Kogure settled the children in front of the tv to watch a new Tom and Jerry videotape that had come in the afternoon mail. Kenji watched as he moved about the room tidying up and rearranging pillows. When he caught his attention, he motioned for him to join him on the couch by patting the cushion next to him. The four of them watched and laughed as the cartoon characters, Tom and Jerry, performed their antics.  
"Bedtime!" Kogure announced when the tape ended.  
"Aw, Uncle, do we have to?" He expected rebellion; they'd been having such a good time with Kenji.  
"Tell you what," Kenji proposed as he pulled them both onti his lap. "If it's okay with your uncle, after you get ready for bed, I'll tell you a story."  
Two children hurried off to don their pajamas as their bewildered uncle looked on.  
"Hope that it's okay with you," Kenji apologized.  
A grateful smile curled across his lips. "I wouldn't have it any other way."  
Two pajama-clad children leaped into Kenji's lap and struggled to who can hug him the tightest as Kenji buried his face first in one neck and then the other, giggling and laughing along with them.  
"Which book do you want?" Kogure asked as he scanned the shelves that contained the vast assortment of children's books reserved for bedtime reading. " We have quite a selection."  
His gray eyes twinkled. "Don't need one; thank you."  
His answer surprised him. He'd promised them a bedtime story. Was he going to renege and disappoint them after such a lovely evening?Okay, you guys. Settle down. Time for our story." His voice was gentle yet firm as he opened his arms to them.  
Two wiry children stopped them wiggling and seated themselves, Hanamichi on one thigh, Haruko on the other. His long arms encircled them, holding them securely. "You have to promise that as soon as the story is finished, you'll go to bed without a word. Okay?"  
Two heads nodded in agreement.  
"Now, what shall it be, 'Little Red Riding Hood'?  
"Yes!" Haruko clapped her little hands as she wiggled on Kenji's lap. "I love 'Little Red Riding Hood.' Will you tell us about the wolf, Kenji?"  
Kenji looked at Hanamichi. ""Red Riding Hood' okay, fella?"  
Hanamichi grinned. "Yeah. Haruko likes it. It's okay."  
Kenji kissed each child atop the head and began his story. "There once was a beautiful little girl with dark flowing hair..."  
The children sat motionless as kenji told the story of the little girl, her grandmother, and the wolf. He included parts of the story Kogure had never heard before, and he fould himself as enthralled as the children. When the story ended, Kenji again kissed each child on top of the head, then lifted them both in his arms and carried them to their rooms. Kogure followed silently, not wanting to break the spell.  
Haruko was first to be placed in bed. As Kenji gently lay her on the Barbie sheets and covered her with the bright pink comforter, she pulled his face down to hers and gave him a forceful kiss on his lips and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back and whispered. "Good night, Haruko."  
"I didn't get to drink milk," the girl protested.  
Kenji looked uneasy.  
"If you'll put Hanamichi to bed, I'll make the milk for Haruko," Kogure volunteered quickly, coming to his rescue.  
"You got it," He replied as he hurried off with Hanamichi in his arms, apparently grateful for the reprieve.  
Haruko drifted off to sleep, exhausted and happy, almost as soon as she said "Thank you." Kogure moved to the family room and settled himself in the corner of the couch, his knees drawn up beneath his chin. When Kenji joined him, he was smiling.  
"What?" His smile intrigued him.  
"What what?" he said as he sat down close behind him, crowding him into the corner a bit.  
"You were smiling; I wondered why. That's all."  
He locked his hands behind his head and rested them against the sofa's soft back. "Didn't realize I was smiling. Guess it was just a smile of contentment. I never had an evening like this when I was growing uo. Your kids are lucky."  
They sat gazing into the fire as the flames furled and twirled and popped and crackled, spitting sparks wildly against the screen.  
"It's hedge," Kogure said matter-of-factly.  
"Hedge?" he repeated.  
"Hedge pop and crackles like that then spits sparks everywhere, but I like it." He gazed into the fire, enjoying the erratic behavior of the burning hedge wood. Eventually, he lifted his eyes to meet his quizzically. "I have a question. How did you know the story of 'Little Red Riding Hood'? Tonight I heard parts of that story I've never heard before. I was impressed. So were the children."  
He winced. "It was okay? They weren't disappointed?"  
He touched the tip of his nose with his fingertip. "You told it so well, I've decided I'll never tell in again. I could never do it the way you did."  
He let out a sigh. "Okay, I'll let you in on my secret. I've never read 'Little Red Riding Hood' and my mother never read storybooks to me when I was a kid."  
"But-- how? How did you tell it like that?"  
He angled his head towards hers and confessed, "I skated the part of the wolf!"  
Apparently, he realized he was laughing at his method of storytelling, not at him, and joined in his laughter.  
Kenji skated as the wolf conjured up hysterical images. He slid his arm across the sofa back and squeezed his shoulder.  
"I've had a great evening, but we both have to get up early. I'd better be going."  
He rose to his feet and walked him to the door. Although he found himself wanting to ask him to stay longer, he resisted the temptation and thanked him for the flowers, now nestled in a crystal vase in the center of the coffee table. As the door closed behind Kenji, Kogure leaned against it and sighed deeply. What a wonderful day this has been.  
  
  
  
Gomen, Minna! I had a hard time deciding what to write! I'm also so sorry 'cause it's shorter than my usual... Hope you didn't mind. I made the characters act like when my little sis and other bro acted when they were younger, and I am NOT going to make a HaruFuji or FujiHaru, that's how my little sis acted when a friend of mine visited. ^^ Oh yeah, I'm already starting at that Ko-seme fic you want Kimi, gomen Oniichan. NYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!  



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